


The Domestic Life Comes Later

by corncat



Category: The Lion King (1994)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Human, Angst with a Happy Ending, Heavy Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Minor Injuries, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Parent Death, Tags May Change, Temporary Amnesia
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-01-27
Updated: 2021-01-06
Packaged: 2021-03-16 21:20:29
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,031
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28588677
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/corncat/pseuds/corncat
Summary: A young boy had lost his memories and was put in the orphanage. Will his new family help him recover his past? Will they form a strong bond or build a disaster?Read to find out!The updates will be slow, I have a lot of series to work on. So please be patient! Thank you!---Disclaimer: I do not own the characters or the movie(s) itself. I am not making a profit off of this, this fic is just for others to enjoy.Warning: This is really sad, mostly in the beginning. It gets better later on.
Relationships: Pumbaa & Simba & Timon (The Lion King), Pumbaa/Timon (The Lion King)
Comments: 1
Kudos: 8





	The Domestic Life Comes Later

**Author's Note:**

> Warning: Building on fire, falling from high places, and blood is shown for a little bit.

_The rain pours heavily as the small boy stared at the house in front of him, flames swarming as they reach for the night sky. He stood up shakily, wincing when he felt scratches and burns on his sides. His brown hair covered by the ashes and his lungs had inhaled too much of the bitter smoke. Amber eyes staring back at the building as it collapses, echoing throughout the forest. Moving back hesitantly, bumping into a taller body behind his smaller frame. Spinning around to see a man in a dark suit, emerald eyes that were almost as bright as the flames. The man spoke to the boy harshly, glaring him down. The child barely heard his words, but when the thunder roar the boy jolted as he scurried away from the area._

_He ran, he ran as fast as he could in the harsh weather. He directed himself into the forest, making sure he was far away from the now ruined house._

_Why was he in the middle of the forest? How did he get there? The boy can't recall the reasons as he ran in the harsh rain._

_Gunshots were heard behind him, making the child run even faster than he possibly could. Occasionally he trips from tree roots poking out from the ground, having mud stuck on his skin easily with the rain. It felt like he was running for an hour until he slips on the edge of a hill to the road below. Tumbling down, almost hitting on the flat concrete, but still hit the stones stuck on the earth. Groaning as he carefully sat up, blood on a nearby rock had caught his eye in alarm. Before he could questions it even further, gunshots were heard once again._

_His vision begins to blur as he ran down the road, not caring where it goes. He fully accepted his early fate as his legs gave out quickly. There lay a young boy, no energy left to call for help or to keep running. The last thing he heard was a car horn and door slamming open before he blacks out..._

* * *

Amber eyes open wide to the darkness of the boys' bedroom, glancing at the clock on the wall to see it was four in the morning. Sitting up rather than trying to go back to sleep, Simba rubs his eyes to adjust in the dark. The only noise that filled the room was two other boys' snoring. Keeping quiet so the adults wouldn't hear him up so early. He didn't want to be lecture so early in the morning.

Ever since that rainy night, his dreams of the events that had accrued. They were smudge like a photograph, but clear enough to tell what was happening, somewhat.

He couldn't remember his parents' faces or what his family name was. It was like his whole life had been completely erased. He could only remember his first name and emerald eyes that pierce in his mind.

When Simba had explained his statement to the police officers, they refuse to take his information. They believe it was the trauma that was affecting his memory. The couple that founded Simba had said they hadn't seen any smoke when they were driving down that road. Leaving it as a cold case and Simba was put in the orphanage. 

Simba has been living in a foster home for almost a year and it was fine, for the most part.

Don't get him wrong, it wasn't so bad. His foster parents were lovely people, and the children were nice to Simba. But he felt close off, he needed time to feel alright with not remembering his life and what he lost. The boy had tried to remember where the house was and who was there that night. However, he always came with a dead end.

Shaking his head frustrated, as he lifts the blanket to cover himself. Laying back to his original sleeping position, hoping to get some rest before the day starts. After all, he has to keep going with his new life.

* * *

"Timon, you're fidgeting again."

The smaller man stopped his coin from traveling around his fingers, shoving it back in his pocket quickly as he nervously laughs at the bigger man. "Who's fidgeting? I'm just patiently waiting, that's all." Grinning wide, but his husband didn't buy it.

The two men had been looking forward to adopting for quite a long time, and being so close to fulfilling that dream seems to have struck a nerve to Timon. Pumba wasn't sure why though, they had their papers taken care of and their house was checked out. All that was left to do is to meet the children.

Of course, that is the hard part. Regardless of checking the right papers and living in a safe environment, creating a bond is the one thing they truly had to earn.

Pumba tried to comfort the shorter man. "You know, it's not so bad. We're only meeting the kids, nothing too big."

"Nothing too big? Oh, Pumba. This is a child you're talking about. Whatever we say or do is important for the first impression." Timon hunch over his seat, scratching his head frustrating. "Then there's the what if's and being qualified, it's just so..." A heavy sigh escape from his lips as he leans back on the fancy looking chair. It was rare for others to see the small man so lost, so it was worried some to see it. "I just don't want to mess up on this."

Frowning, Pumba reaches for his partner's hand, giving a recurrence squees. "You can't mess up on something that hasn't even started, Timon. We're not experts on this, but we're not alone." He smiled when Timon looks back at the other man, a soft grin returning to his face. "Heh, you're right. Thanks, Pumba."

The moment could have lasted a little longer if it weren't for the knock on the office door had interrupted them. A turn of the doorknob and there stood a woman in a black suit and papers in hand, smiling respectively.

"Hello, gentlemen. So glad to see you here today."


End file.
